


Vox

by Sapphylicious



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Han Geng's life is hard, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The telephone is a wonderful, wonderful invention. (aka things Han Geng didn't imagine he'd have to deal with back when he was leader of SJ-M.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vox

Kyuhyun exits the bathroom in loose pajama bottoms with a towel draped across his shoulders, using one end of it to dry his hair. His feet make damp, fading imprints on the carpet as he pads into the center of the apartment where everyone else is gathered. There's some sort of American movie with Chinese subtitles playing on the T.V., and most of his bandmates have managed to all fit on the couch. Ryeowook and Zhou Mi press hip to hip, arms entwined like complimentary puzzle pieces, while Shiwon sits on the opposite end with an exhausted Henry pillowing his head on his thigh. The boy's legs are thrown up across the other two laps, and Zhou Mi's free hand strokes absently along one ankle. Donghae is situated on the floor next to Shiwon's leg, and Henry's arm drapes in front of his chest.

Meanwhile, Hankyung paces – slowly, calmly – and speaks into his phone. "Yes, we'll be ready tomorrow at seven – and how long do you think that will run for? I see. No, it's fine..."

Kyuhyun comes up behind Hankyung to stop him for a one-armed hug, and props his chin on their leader's shoulder. Sounds like another busy day tomorrow. He stifles a yawn just thinking about it.

Hankyung finishes the conversation and hangs up, turning a bit and giving Kyuhyun's hand a squeeze. "Your cell went off while you were in the shower," he informs, and then his own rings again in his hand. The tune is a significant one, and Kyuhyun grins at Hankyung's sigh.

"Tell Heechul-hyung I said hi." Then he retreats back down the hall towards his room, picking his cell phone up off the table. One missed call from... Ah. Kyuhyun hits 'send' and sprawls back on the bed as he listens to the first, second, and third ring. 

"Oh, good," says the answering voice from across the line, skipping the 'hello.' "I was starting to wonder if you'd forgotten about me."

He closes his eyes with a smile and lets the familiar tone and Korean syllables wash over him. "My memory would have to really suck since we talk just about every night."

"Well, when you didn't pick up at the usual time I got worried," and Sungmin pitches his voice into a plaintive sound most likely accompanied by a pout.

"Sorry, I was in the shower. And I'm calling now, aren't I?"

"The shower, hmm?" Sungmin's tone drops. It rises again after he sighs. "It's so lonely here without half the group. Actually, it's sort of irritating. Jongwoon misses you and Ryeowookie terribly, but he has to pretend otherwise with all this obnoxious posturing. Hyukjae has become a leech lately, and he's one of my best friends in the whole wide world, but honestly. Though I think I've managed to redirect some of his clinginess towards Tablo-hyung. I've told you about _that_ , right?"

"The epic BloHyuk love story? Yeah."

"It's kind of adorable in a retarded puppy way. You have to see it to believe it. So did you have a nice shower?"

Kyuhyun blinks. "What? Um, I guess?" 

"Still wet?"

"Not really, no."

There's a pause, and finally a crackle as Sungmin exhales loudly. "Way to disrupt the fantasy, you jerk."

"Do you think I can read minds or something?" Kyuhyun laughs, but there's a fluttery feeling in his stomach now. "One minute it's about Tablo and Hyukjae, and then you suddenly..."

"Remember the night before you left, you crawled into bed with me still wet from your shower?"

Kyuhyun sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He remembers that, and how Sungmin had kissed his neck, nibbled his ear, and pulled away with spots of dampness his face from Kyuhyun's hair. He's wondered since then... "Were you crying that time?"

" _No_ ," is the emphatic response. "You are so bad at this. What gives?"

"You know I share a room and we have a busy schedule tomorrow, as usual." He gets up and crosses the floor, leaning out to peer down the hallway. The T.V. is still on, and Hankyung's voice still carries from his conversation with Heechul. That call probably won't be ending anytime soon.

"...I'm sorry," Sungmin says over the line, with no flourishes. "I just miss you. Oh, I saw that interview from the other day – Shiwon's getting cocky, don't you think? And how's Henry? He looks a lot more comfortable these days..."

Kyuhyun quietly shuts the door and hesitates guiltily before turning the lock. Just in case. He readjusts his grip on his phone and licks his lips. "Sungmin." He's good at manipulating his voice into something a lot more steady and certain than he feels. 

"Yes, Kyuhyunnie?" There's a bit of curiosity there as Sungmin picks up on that particular note. His eyes might be narrowing slightly in suspicion, body shifting where he's probably on his bed. Kyuhyun takes the thought and runs with it.

"What are you wearing?"

He hears rustling in his ear, then Sungmin's lowered voice, doubtlessly smiling. "Shorts and one of your t-shirts. What about you? Just a towel?"

Kyuhyun chuckles, returning to the bed and stretching out on top of it. "Sorry to disappoint you, but I have pants on."

"Well, that can be changed."

He skims his fingertips lightly down his stomach, muscles quivering at the ticklish brush, and stops at the waistband. The brief second of uncertainty throws him back five years, to nights when he nervously stroked a hand between his legs, his face half-muffled in his pillow. "You too," he murmurs as he squirms out of the pajamas, trying not to think of how badly the others would kill him or tease him until he died if they knew.

"Should I keep the shirt?"

Kyuhyun closes his eyes and imagines Sungmin lying supine, legs bare, playing with the hem of the t-shirt. One of his own. Well, that's a nice touch. "Sure. And slide your hand under, push it up."

"Mm, okay." A soft exhale, his palm probably skating up his chest. They both know how this works, no instruction necessary, but a little bit of guidance never hurt. "Kyuhyun, lick your finger..."

He brings his index finger to his lips, across his tongue, and sucks it in to the second knuckle. Sungmin's fingers are often decorated in a few rings – there's almost always a thin band around his middle finger or pinky, pressing cold against Kyuhyun's skin and tasting like metal when he flicks his tongue over them. He draws his finger from his mouth and slides it wetly from his collarbone (thinking of the little bites Sungmin would leave there) to his nipple, circling and pinching.

There's a small, shivery sound in his ear. "Sungmin?"

"Kyuhyun," he answers in a slightly breathless croon. His eyes would be dark, half-lidded, a smile tipping the corner of his lips and revealing just a sliver of white teeth. "I bet you're behind. Better catch up."

No problem with that, his hand migrates south – but not too fast, not yet. "Play fair, hyung," he colors the honorific in a dark, velvet tone, followed by a whisper-soft moan as he curls his fingers around his cock. He strokes steadily and Sungmin's whimper is just impatient enough to say he's slowed down, matching Kyuhyun's pace. For a little while. He flexes his hand, rippling the pressure, and teases his thumb over the tip with a gasp. "Miss you," he says, fingers shifting on the cell phone, and he quickly brings his other hand up to sample the traces of fluid on his skin. "Want to taste you."

He hears Sungmin's breath catch, imagines the flush heating his cheeks while he wets his lips in response. "Kyuhyun," he moans, more raw this time, then there's a rustle and a faint, " _Nhh..._ "

"Sungmin?" he prompts with shivery anticipation.

"Turnabout is fair play, Kyu— _Ah_ ," Sungmin pants in a faded voice, like he's farther away from the phone, and there's a shaky undercurrent of laughter. "Your fingers are longer than mine, so..."

For a moment Kyuhyun forgets to breathe entirely. His hand isn't so deterred, working faster along his erection as he pictures Sungmin pressed into the pillows and sheets, knees bent, reaching between spread thighs to push his fingers in and slide them partway out. Kyuhyun thinks of the sweat on Sungmin's skin, the smooth column of his arched neck, his cock hard and leaking as he pumps with his fist and thrusts with his fingers. Kyuhyun bites his lip because Sungmin isn't there to kiss or hold, but he can hear him, a tumbling mix of noises and rushes of air that crackle weakly over the line.

Kyuhyun drives his hips into his slick grasp and lets his voice play low and natural, as if his lips were touching the curve of Sungmin's ear. "Love you, want you..." He twists his wrist on the stroke up and his whole body shudders. "I miss you, please, _hyung_." He has to drag his arm over his mouth to muffle the volume of his cry when he spills hot over his hand and belly. Sungmin's answer is a building crescendo with no such restraints, loud and—

Too loud.

"Oh, shit," Kyuhyun bites out, fumbling to turn off the speaker button he accidentally pressed and ending the call in the process. He reaches to grab a handful of tissues from the table and casts his eyes and ears towards the door while cleaning up. Naively, he starts to think that maybe no one heard when the knock comes, sounding like terminal embarrassment, followed by an eerily-calm Hankyung speaking on the other side.

"Kyuhyun." There's also a suspicious snicker that resembles a wickedly amused Donghae. He automatically fears the worst.

_Shit_ , Kyuhyun mouths again, and his phone chimes with a new text message.

_"you're in trouble aren't you"_

"Kyuhyun," Hankyung repeats in a never-before-heard tone of voice. 

_"this is all your fault"_ he sends back before retrieving his pants, glancing at the door, and seriously considers escaping out the window.


End file.
